Spell books, Needles, and the Devil
by magicks
Summary: tired Gabe+missing book+suspicious librarians= assumed insanity. *a "Choose Your Own Ending" story*
1. Default Chapter

Title: Spell books, Needles, and the Devil 

By: magicks 

Summary: tired gabe+missing book+suspicious librarians= assumed insanity 

Disclaimer: not mine. *points to TNT and USA* not theirs, either. what's wrong with this picture? 

Feedback: yes, please. Gabriel-challenges are also welcome at the moment (preferably shorts), as I am still trying to get through this darn writer's block. Any and all suggestions/challenges can be sent to dnomaid72@aol.com. 

A/N: Kam supplied inspiration for this story. Special thanks to her for the "druggie" idea. (I bet now I've got your attention, hmm?) 

A/N2: MUST READ: I wrote two endings to this story, but, being the indecisive person I am, I didn't know which to post. Hence, this is a "choose your own ending." You like where the story ends? Don't read the other two chapters. You need more closure? Pick one. 

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"God dammit!" Gabe yelled. Seeing the looks being directed at him, he lowered his voice. "You're supposed to have the books," he hissed. "The guy I talked to said they would be sent over from the other library today." 

"I'm sorry," the librarian replied coolly. "Those books are not even available for checkout, much less transfer." 

"You don't understand. I need those books *today,*" Gabe protested. 

"I'm sorry, young man," You're going to have to find them somewhere else. We don't have them." 

Gabriel was reaching the end of his rope. He had been up for two days straight, trying to decipher the hieroglyphs on an ancient Egyptian death mask he had received, and these books of spells were the key to the entire inscription. He had called ahead and been assured that the books would be sent, special delivery, to this library in New York, which, of course, was across town from his apartment. And now this old hag of a librarian was telling him they didn't have the books! 

"Listen to me," he began slowly, bloodshot eyes narrowing as his tone turned serious. "I *need* those books. I was promised that those books would be ready for checkout by noon *today.* It is now three o'clock in the afternoon. Now I don't care if you have to have them sent over care of the United States Marshal; I need the books *now.*" 

The librarian, an older Christian woman who read the Bible faithfully every evening, regarded him speculatively. There was obviously something wrong with the boy. No one simply checks out spell books without a reason. There must be some evil, blasphemic conjuring tricks he was planning to do with those books. Well, she would have no part in *that.* She, Eliza Mary Jacobs, was a good, solid Christian woman. He wouldn't get those books from her. The poor thing, he was just ill. Sick in the body and the spirit. She gazed at his lean, starved body, his haunted eyes, and realized it. Oh, the poor boy. He was possessed. 

"Hello? Helll-ooo?" Gabriel sing-songed, waving his hand in front of the librarian's face. Startled, she snapped back to attention with a gasp. Then she smiled sweetly. 

"Why, yes, dear. Let me see what we can do for you. Just let me check the back. Wait right here, dear. I won't be a moment." Standing, she walked towards the back room of the library, grabbing her purse as she did so. 

"Thank you," Gabriel said exasperatedly, releasing a deep breath. Damn, he hated this library. That was odd for him, as he usually loved any place that held books, but right now he was running on adrenaline and caffeine, and he was running out of one and growing immune to the other. He rubbed his eyes for the tenth time. He needed another cup of coffee. _Maybe moving around will keep me awake,_ he thought. Shaking himself slightly, he walked impatiently from one end of the room to the other. _First the tomes, then Starbucks,_ he told himself. _Where the hell is she?_

Unbeknownst to the pacing Gabriel, Shirley Campton watched the scene with growing fear. A young woman who lived in the suburbs and read _The Starr_ and Pride and Prejudice simultaneously, Shirley knew about guys like him. He was one of those druggies she was always hearing about. He had all the signs: his eyes were bloodshot, his hair was disheveled, his clothes wrinkled and messy. He was very jumpy and jittery; he must have just had his last fix. And the leather jacket he wore would be a perfect cover for the track marks. Plus, he was threatening Ms. Jacobs over a book! She caught the serious look in Ms. Jacobs' eye as she passed her desk; Ms. Jacobs must know as well as she that the man was dangerous. Fortunately, they had a plan for something like this. Trying to act nonchalant, Shirley strolled over to Ms. Jacobs' desk and typed in the name on the man's library card, along with a short message. Then she clicked the silent alarm programmed into the computer. 

*************************************** 

Sara flew through the streets of Manhattan, smiling behind her helmet. Today had been pretty good. She hadn't had any weird dreams about the Witchblade last night, waking up refreshed for the first time in a long time. She and her partners had solved a case they'd been working on for months, and she'd gotten off work early. The weather seemed to realize her luck, and the sun shone brightly in a clear sky, begging her to go for a ride. Because it was a workday, there were no festivals or markets being held, and the streets were practically deserted. She could ride in peace. It wasn't just a good day; it was a great day. Sara was, in fact, in such a good mood she forgot to turn off the police radio she had installed into her bike. 

Hearing the telltale static that accompanied an incoming message, Sara suppressed a groan. Ah, well, it wasn't for her, she knew. Joe had told her personally that the three of them deserved a day off, and he wouldn't go back on his word. So she could ignore the call. Still, she listened idly to the voices on the radio as she sped down 4th Ave., catching only every other word. 

".... silent alarm..... library on 95th and 3rd..... druggie.... causing trouble...... Gabriel Bowman...." _What the hell?!_ Sara almost drove off the road. Skidding to a stop, she immediately changed direction and headed uptown. _There goes my day off._

**************************************** 

Sara reached the library seconds after the uniforms. Entering the main room, she found Gabriel struggling with two cops who were trying to hold his arms and take him outside. One cop, a tall, thin man with an extraordinarily large mustache, dug out his handcuffs. 

"If you don't start cooperating, sir, we're going to have to place you under arrest," he threatened. When it was apparent Gabriel was not going to stop fighting, Sara decided it was time to step in. Walking up to the mustached officer, she gripped the hand holding the handcuffs. 

"Whoa, just hold on a second. Gabriel's not gonna cause any trouble, are you, Gabe?" she said, silently warning him not to disagree with her. 

"I wasn't causing any trouble in the first place," Gabe snapped, still trying to wriggle out of the officers' grips. "I just want to get a book." 

"Really? 'Cause you don't look like the reading kind." The second cop, a heavy middle-aged man, spoke up in a smug, disbelieving voice. Gabriel was about to reply when Ms. Jacobs came out of the back room, a book in one hand, a squirt gun in the other, and a crucifix around her neck. 

"Oh, good. Do you have a tight hold on him?" she asked. 

"Yes, ma'am," the short cop answered. "Don't you worry; he won't be giving you any more trouble." 

"I wasn't giving them trouble in the first place," Gabriel growled, while Ms. Jacobs shook her head. 

"It's not his fault, dear. Don't blame the poor boy." Gabriel looked triumphantly at the two cops, and Ms. Jacobs continued. "He's just another victim of Satan." Gabe's head snapped back to stare at the elderly librarian. 

"What?! I'm not-" but Ms. Jacobs wasn't listening. 

"Fortunately, I have found the way to save him." Opening her book, she began to chant in Latin and circle the group. The two cops looked between the young man and the old woman as if unsure who to take with them. 

"Wait a minute, I thought we were here to pick up a druggie who wandered in off the streets," the short cop said. "Now did you or did you not call this in?" 

"I did," said a voice from the side of the room. Everyone (but Ms. Jacobs) turned and looked at the speaker, a young woman in her twenties with a classic fifties bob cut and an accusative look on her face. "He's a druggie. I know it. I've read the papers. I've heard about people who shoot up-" 

"I don't shoot up!" Gabriel exclaimed indignantly. 

"He has all the signs," Shirley continued as if he hadn't spoken. "Just look at him. His eyes are all bloodshot, his hair is all mussed; I'll bet if you take off his jacket you'll find needle marks. He's a lunatic drug addict, I just know it. I'll bet he came in here to steal money for more drugs." 

"Now hold on just a min-" Sara started. 

"Why you little-" Gabe began. 

Ms. Jacobs, meanwhile, had stopped chanting and was now standing directly in front of Gabriel. As Sara and Gabe began their simultaneous tirades, she lifted her water gun a took aim. "AMEN!" she screamed. 

The jet of water hit Gabriel straight in the chest. He jumped back, yelling, and Ms. Jacobs stepped forward, now holding the crucifix. "BE GONE, SATAN!" she roared. 

"You bitch!" Gabriel shouted, looking at his soaked shirt. 

"Hey, you don't talk to her like that!" the second cop cried. 

"The hell I don't!" Gabriel replied loudly, once again struggling to get loose. 

"LEAVE, DEMON! I BANISH THEE FROM THIS PLACE!" Ms. Jacobs pressed the cross to the struggling Gabriel's forehead. "GO! THOU ART BANISHED!" 

Shirley saw Gabe trying to free himself and shrieked, "He's insane! Someone stop him, the druggie's going to get loose!" 

"For the last time, I'm not a druggie!" Gabriel hollered. 

"Just hold still, sir-" the thin cop tried again. 

"Hold still, you stupid kid-" the second cop snarled. 

Sara had had enough. Putting her fingers in her mouth, she released an ear-piercing whistle that quieted everyone except Ms. Jacobs, who was still holding the cross and screaming prayers. Sara simply reached up and grabbed the cross from her hand. Ms. Jacobs stopped praying and turned to Sara in disbelief. 

"Why in the name of our dear Lord did you do that? I was almost finished," she exclaimed. "Now the ritual must be started again." She opened the book and was about to start walking when Sara grasped her arm. 

"It's all right, really. Gabriel's not possessed," she assured her. Ms. Jacobs looked doubtful. 

"I don't mean to be rude, dear, but I think I know a little more about demonic possession than you do," she stated. 

"No, really," Sara insisted. "Look." She took the squirt gun and sprayed some holy water into her palm. Rubbing her hands together, she coated them with the liquid and pressed her hands to the side of Gabriel's face. "See? Holy water doesn't hurt him." 

Ms. Jacobs stepped forward and patted Gabriel's cheek. "Oh, so sorry, dear. I have to admit I wasn't positive, but one does have to be careful about these things, you know." Gabriel just looked at her blankly. 

"Of course he's not possessed," Shirley protested. "He's on drugs." 

"I'm not-" Gabe's temper flared again, but Sara silenced both of them with a wave of her hand. 

"Gabriel, please take off your jacket," she requested politely. Of course, anyone who knew her could hear the steely edge to her voice and knew better than to argue. 

"I'm going to need Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dumber to let go of my arms," Gabe snipped. Sara faced the two cops. 

"It's all right. He won't try anything," she assured them. 

"No offense, ma'am, but we can't just take your word on that," the tall cop said. 

"Then how about taking the word of this," Sara answered, flipping open her badge. "He's okay. I'll vouch for him." Grudgingly the cops released their prisoner, and Gabriel shifted a little, wriggling his arms and adjusting the sleeves of his jacket indignantly. 

"Gabriel, the jacket," Sara reminded him. Gabriel slid his leather jacket off and displayed his clean, albeit pale, arms. "See, no track marks," she pointed out. "Is he free to go now?" 

The cops shared a look and nodded. "Just don't cause any more trouble," the shorter one warned. 

"Oh, for the love of-" Gabriel slid his hand down his face in exasperation. 

"Thank you," Sara answered for them, and, placing a hand on the small of his back, guided Gabe forcefully towards the door. 

"Wait! Wait," Gabe called. Everyone turned to look at him, and he faced Ms. Jacobs. "Do you have my books?" he demanded. 

********************************** 

Well? Does she have his books? If you think she does, go to chapter 2. If you think she doesn't, go to chapter 3. If you want the story to end on this whimsical question, press the little gray button below. 

A/N3: I warn you, my muse is still on the "Sara as Gabe's big sister" idea, so chapter 3 is pretty fluffed up with Sara-mothering. 


	2. Oh, those books?

Spell books, Needles, and the Devil 

Ending #1- Oh, *those* books? 

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"Do you have my book?" he demanded. 

"No, I'm sorry, dear-" Ms. Jacobs stopped speaking and thought for a moment. "Wait. We did get a package in today.... Now, where did I put it? Oh yes," she held up the stack of books triumphantly. "Here are your books. Silly me, they were right here all along." 

Gabriel stared at the books that had been on the counter since he had come in. "Isn't that interesting...." he said faintly. "Sara?" 

"Hmm?" 

"I'm gonna collapse from exhaustion now. Catch me?" 

"Sure." 

Finis 


	3. Lost Causes

Spell books, Needles, and the Devil 

Ending #2- Lost Causes 

A/N: As I said before, lots of big-sister fluff. What, you think Gabriel could look that bad without Sara reacting? 

"Do you have my book?" he demanded. 

"No, I'm sorry, dear," Ms. Jacobs answered. 

Gabriel groaned. "Great. This is just fuckin' great," he mumbled angrily as he let himself be pushed out the door. "All this, and I *still* didn't get the book." 

"What are you mumbling about?" Sara asked. 

Gabriel sighed. "Lost causes." He turned to face her when they reached the parking lot. "Thanks for getting me out of that, Pez. I've got work to do, but maybe I'll talk to you tonight." He started to leave for his car, when a hand reached out and jerked him back by his collar. 

"Hold it." Sara turned him around and stared at him with that motherly/sisterly gaze that always made him feel like he was taking an X-ray. "When's the last time you slept? Or ate, for that matter?" 

"Uumm..." The look changed. Now, instead of critical, it was chastening. This was the one that made him feel like shrinking into his shoes. 

"Well?" 

Gabriel looked anywhere but Sara. "I dunno..... couple days, maybe?" 

"A couple *days*? Gabe, what the hell is so important you forget to eat and sleep for a couple *days*?" 

"I received the death mask of an ancient Egyptian chancellor that supposedly held the directions to a secret family tomb that was never discovered. I've been trying to decipher the hieroglyphs for days now, and I've almost got it," Gabriel informed her somewhat proudly. 

Sara rolled her eyes. "Let me guess, the key to solving it all lies in those books you were trying to take out," she said. 

"Well..... yeah." 

"Then because they don't have the books at the moment, you'll have no problem with going home and going to bed." Sara smiled sweetly. 

"But I've got other work to do..... I'll be fine, Sara. I just need a little coffee." Gabriel knew this was a lie, that he would need at least a pot to be able to get the paperwork done, but Sara didn't need to know that. 

"Gabriel, if you think I'm buying that crap you're more tired than you look." Sara placed her hand on the small of his back again and started guiding them both to his car. "I'll drive you home and you can sleep." Knowing it was pointless to protest, Gabriel handed over the keys and fought to stay awake on the ride home. He let her make him some tea and put him to bed. Once he heard the front door close, he counted twenty seconds before sliding out from under the covers and heading for his closet to slip on some clothes. Before he was halfway there, the phone rang. He detoured, grabbing the phone first before opening the closet door. He had just pressed the 'receive' button on his phone and picked out a pair of pants when he heard Sara's voice come over the line. 

"Don't even think about it, Gabe. Put the pants down and go back to bed." Gabriel stared at the phone. How did she *do* that? 

"I said go to bed, Gabriel," she repeated firmly. Gabriel made a face at the phone and climbed back into the bed. 

"That's better. Good night, sweetie." 

" 'Night, Sara," Gabe replied, defeated. He was asleep before she hung up. 

Finis 

Aaww, so cute. Maybe I'll be Witchblade fanfiction's "plotless fluff" expert. 


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